Takes place during Episodes 3x12-3x13. Contains spoilers for flashbacks revealed in Seasons 5 and 6.

"Homecoming"

Hook was pleased, overall, with how things were working out, but it was clear that Emma did not feel the same way.

He supposed the invitation to her apartment was a good sign. Whatever their past, in this world or the Enchanted Forest, at this point she trusted him enough to drink with him. Sitting at a table and sharing a bottle was probably the most domestic thing they had ever done, and about the closest they had ever come to a date.

But the drinking was not in the least celebratory. It was mostly to help Emma cope with her discovery of the truth, and to help Hook bear the knowledge that she was now in love with another man.

He had known that Emma might fancy someone someday, after forgetting about her other life. But if it had to be anyone besides him, he would have preferred for her to be with Neal. He, at least, truly loved Emma and Henry, and was willing to fight for them. They would have been in good hands with him.

This Walsh, on the other hand … Hook did not know much about him, and really did not care to know. He could never be good enough for Emma. A man from this world could never understand who she was as the Savior.

Hook did as Emma asked, and stayed in the apartment while she took Walsh up to the roof to talk. He refilled his glass, and looked out the windows as he drank, trying not to think about what they were saying or doing up there.

He had almost finished a third glass when something large and dark fell outside. He might have missed it if it were not for all the lights shining in the street and the dark shadow cast by whatever fell. Then he heard something outside: a harsh flapping sound, and a monstrous screech—and another dark shadow passed by, this time moving upward—toward the roof.

Old instincts kicked in, a result of many monster attacks at sea. Hook ran out to the hall and followed the signs to the stairs leading up to the roof. The closer he got, the louder the screeches became. He wished that he at least had a sword on him; all he had was his hook, hidden in his pocket.

When he opened the door, he saw Emma alone on the rooftop terrace, looking over the edge at the street below. There was no sign of her companion. "Swan?! What the blazes was that?"

She turned around to face him, with the winded look she often had after a fight. "A reminder," she said, bitter and breathless, "that I was never safe. What I wanted—what I thought I could have—was never in the cards for the Savior."

Hook stared. Did that mean what he thought—hoped—it meant? Was she ready to leave behind this life built on lies, for good?

"We leave in the morning," she said shortly, sounding, for a moment, like the leader he had known in Storybrooke and Neverland.

He watched her storm past him, and cautiously followed her back to the apartment. Once there, she grabbed the bottle on the table and chugged down what little liquid was left.

Hook waited until she was almost done before he spoke. "Swan? What happened?"

She banged the glass on the table when she had finished. "He was a monster. A literal monster."

"Something from our world?"

She looked at him, and her eyes held both despair and determination, a combination Hook knew well. "He knew about the memory potion. Whoever cast the new curse must have sent him here to distract me, to keep me from going back."

Hook pressed his hand to his face. "Bloody hell." He realized it was lucky—providential, even—that he had arrived right before the marriage proposal. Or maybe it was the other way around: perhaps that very proposal had been part of whatever plan was in motion to curse Emma's family.

Hook did not generally think of Emma as someone who needed to be protected. She was one of the most powerful people he knew, and certainly the strongest and smartest. But her memory loss had made her ignorant of their world's dangers. The thought of a monster, an agent of one of their enemies, trying to worm his way into her heart and pull her into a marriage bed …

He wished he had had a chance to show Walsh his hook—preferably from inside the monster's chest.

He could hardly blame Emma for being closed off to romance after that. He could still nurse hope for the future, but for now, he was just glad to have her trust, and her company.

Emma was still bustling around the kitchen, banging cabinets open and closed, taking out various items. "I need to pack for our trip," she said in lieu of an explanation.

"Can I help at all?" Hook offered cautiously.

She pushed some containers from the refrigerator toward him. "You can eat some of our food so I don't have to throw it out."

He obliged, since he had not had much to eat over the last few days. Food vendors in this city did not seem to like doubloons, so he had mostly lived off rations he brought with him, or scraps he found dropped on the ground or in garbage bins.

Emma snapped out of her cleaning frenzy long enough to ask, "Do you have a place to stay? Or have you been sleeping in Central Park?"

"I stayed where you'd be able to find me," he said ambiguously.

"The couch folds out into a bed." That, apparently, was her way of inviting him to stay. "Henry's staying at a friend's house tonight. You just need to leave before he comes back in the morning. You can come when we're ready to leave."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"We'll say that I have a work trip and you're helping me with a case." Emma paused, realizing something. "What should we call you? He thinks Captain Hook is a character in a story, so that's not going to work."

He wanted to object, to insist that Henry would get his memories back too; but who knew how long that would take?

"Call me Killian," he decided. "That's my real name, anyway." Hardly anyone called him that anymore, but at least the name was his own.

The journey from New York to Maine was a strange one.

It was Hook's first time traveling in a motor vehicle, a novel experience in itself. Despite the time he had spent in this world, Hook was still amazed by the speed of these land vehicles. He would have to ask later about the speed of this world's watercraft—could they move as fast as these cars?

Besides that, it was the longest stretch of time Emma and Hook had spent together when they were not actively doing something. Climbing up the beanstalk and trekking through Neverland had been different; those stressful excursions had required all their concentration and energy. Emma had to concentrate on driving, but for her it seemed as relaxing as manning the helm of a ship. Sitting in the passenger seat, Hook had little to do other than look out the window and watch the fast-passing scenery.

It was also Hook's first time traveling with Henry, and the fact that Henry was in the dark about so much prevented them from talking openly.

From the backseat, Henry kept sneaking glances at Hook in the car's mirrors. The boy was clearly curious about him.

"So, how do you two know each other?" Henry asked just a few minutes into their journey.

Hook looked to Emma, unsure how much she wanted Henry to know. She answered carefully and vaguely. "We met a couple years ago … when I was on a trip. He helped me find some important people."

Hook smiled. That was true: Henry was certainly an important person.

When Henry found that he could not get much information from either of them, he absorbed himself in playing games on his handheld devices.

To fill the silence, Emma kept music playing through the car's sound system—more technology Hook would have to learn about. He did not care much for the strange musical styles he heard, but every now and then Henry would request that she turn the volume up so he could hear a favorite song. A couple times, the mother and son started singing along. Hook was amazed, and realized he had never really seen Emma bond with her son before, or do something just for the pleasure of it.

Henry was kind enough to offer to share his snacks, but Hook politely declined. He had sampled enough of this world's food to know that most of it was rubbish, consisting almost entirely of sugar and strange chemicals. He would just as soon drink a witch's brew.

He nearly caused an accident at one point, when he saw the name Peter Pan emblazoned on one of the longer vehicles passing them on the road. He clumsily tapped Emma's arm with his fake hand. "Swan! Do you see that?"

"What?" She did not understand his urgency at first, but once she did, she was reassuring. "Oh. Hoo—Killian. It's just the name of the bus company. It has nothing to do with … who you're thinking of."

Hook glanced back at Henry, who had looked up from his game and was watching them with a blank expression. The boy remembered nothing about Neverland, which was probably a blessing for him, but Hook was still wary. "You're sure it's not some of his agents, looking for …?"

"If they were, they wouldn't be using that name." Emma put her hand on his arm, close to where it tapered off. "Trust me, Killian."

He tried, but he remained on edge until the "bus," as she called it, turned onto a different exit than them.

Henry fell asleep later in the day, before they reached Storybrooke. That allowed Emma and Hook to speak about it as they approached the place where the town should be.

"What if it's not there?" Emma said, almost whispering. "What if this curse sent everyone somewhere else in this world?"

Hook shrugged. The answer seemed simple to him: they would keep looking. But for now he only said, "We won't know unless we look."

They need not have worried. Emma and Hook both breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the sign that read "Welcome to Storybrooke," and the yellow car drove over the town line without impediment.

Hook could not guess what Emma felt as they drove to the main square, but he felt a kind of relief. The town was much quieter than New York, and the people here were from the same realm as them. After what felt like far too long, he took off his fake hand and replaced it with his hook, feeling like he was returning to his normal self.

Hook appreciated that Emma trusted him to watch over her son, even if just for a few moments, while she checked on her parents' apartment. He paced slowly around the car, stretching his legs after so many hours of sitting still, and glanced up and down the street.

He had never really had the chance to get to know the town of Storybrooke. When he first arrived, over a year earlier, he had essentially stayed in hiding, except for his brief hospital stay. His quest for revenge had led him to some odd places—the library, the mayor's house, the sheriff's station, the mines. Upon returning from Neverland, he had joined the celebration at Granny's, which he understood to be a kind of center of the community, serving as both a restaurant and an inn. But the town had been erased before he could figure out whether he had a place there.

Emma interrupted his musings, returning after only fifteen minutes.

"How did it go?" Hook asked at once.

"They're here, and they know me," Emma reported. "They remember who they are. But they have no memory of the past year. For them it was like Pan's curse came yesterday."

"They must have been glad to see you."

"Very."

He gestured with his hook. "And you as well, I take it?"

"Of course."

Hook looked at her, waiting. "Is there more?"

Emma looked away, deliberating. "Well, I guess I should say it before you see them."

"What is it?"

She folded her arms, as if hugging herself. "My mother is pregnant." She said it as though sharing news of a life-threatening illness.

Hook stared, unsure how to react. "Really? Well, that is … what they wanted, isn't it?" Snow had confessed her desire for a baby in the Echo Caves, so was not a complete shock. But he was not sure how Emma had felt about it then, or how she felt about it now. Did she think her parents were trying to replace her?

"Yeah. They can't be sure, but judging by her size, she's probably close to nine months."

"Hm. They didn't waste much time, then, did they?" He tilted his head, studying Emma, who was still looking off to the side. "Are you alright?"

Emma blinked. "Yeah. Of course. I'm happy for them. They're getting a second chance to be parents. Just like I did with Henry when we left with new memories."

Hook frowned incredulously. The two situations seemed entirely different in his mind: one was based in reality, the other in falsehood.

"It's just … not an ideal time," Emma explained with a shrug. "We need to figure out what happened and how they got here. Getting ready to have a baby is going to be just as hard."

It was just like Emma to bottle up her feelings and focus instead on whatever crisis was at hand. It was like how she had reacted to the discovery that Walsh was a monster. However she felt, she was not going to dwell on it or talk about it.

"I asked them to meet us at Granny's hotel, after Henry and I have checked in. Are you going to stay there too?"

Hook quickly assented. He had not had a precise plan for accommodations, and he would have been fine sleeping in a park or on the docks, but he preferred to stay close to Emma and Henry, in case anything happened.

Emma went in by herself first, knowing that Granny and Ruby would have strong reactions to seeing her and Henry. Hook waited until she had come back and brought Henry to their room before approaching the front desk.

"Oh." Granny looked him over with an unreadable expression. "You're back too?"

"Aye," Hook said neutrally. He did not know the matron well, but he had heard that she was part wolf, and he could tell from her demeanor that she was tough.

"Some of the others were looking for you," she informed him. "They were worried something had happened."

"Who?"

"Mary Margaret, David, your old crew."

Hook was surprised. Had he really been missed, as if he were someone who belonged to this community? Had they been worried about him? Or had they simply thought he might have answers about their situation?

He gave his real name as Granny took his details. After writing down Killian Jones, she looked up from her account book to ask, "How long will you be staying?"

It was a natural question, but it gave Hook pause. He wondered if Granny had asked Emma the same thing, and how she had answered. "Indefinitely."

"And how do you intend to pay?"

Hook reached into an inner pocket and held up his purse, bulging with coins. "Do you take doubloons?"

Granny's mouth curled into a smile, which at first seemed mocking, but then she said, "Since you brought Emma and Henry back, I'll take them. But you might want to take some to the bank and exchange them for dollars." For now, she weighed the coins on a scale behind the counter. Once they had agreed on a fair price, she handed him a key. "You room is across the hall from Emma's. Welcome back to Storybrooke, Captain."

Hook smiled graciously and inclined his head as he accepted the key. "Much obliged, ma'am."

He did not have any luggage of his own, so after a brief inspection of his new lodgings, he went down to the parlor to await Emma's parents. They arrived only a few minutes later.

Emma had been right: Snow White was very pregnant. Hook was not an expert on such things, but it looked as though she was quite far along, perhaps even on the point of giving birth.

But what surprised him the most were the looks on Snow and David's faces when they saw him. They were understandably wary, confused, and bewildered; but for the first time since Hook had met them, they looked pleased, even downright happy, to see him. Apparently they did not remember his cold farewell in the Enchanted Forest, when he had shrugged off their hope and forsaken their friendship.

"Hook! You're back." David held his hand out, and they grasped each other's forearm, like old crewmates meeting again.

"It's good to see you," Snow said, giving him a friendly smile.

Hook bowed slightly. "Likewise. I suppose congratulations are in order," he said, nodding at her round stomach.

She smiled, almost beaming, cradling her stomach with her hands. "Thank you." In spite of all the mystery afoot, she looked truly happy—probably happier than Hook had ever seen her.

Something about that made him feel something he could not quite identify. Envy? Wistfulness? He supposed he had hoped that Emma would be as happy to see him again as her parents were. Even though he had succeeded in getting her to remember, her emotions were conflicted, and she was keeping them pretty tightly contained around others.

When Emma came down from her room, they were finally able to catch up on what had been going on. Unfortunately there were many gaps that they could not fill. It seemed that the last few days had been just as confusing and danger-ridden for the people of Storybrooke as they had been for Emma and Hook.

Despite the strange circumstances, it almost felt normal to be talking and strategizing with this family again. At least this time they were in a comfortable inn rather than the jungles of Neverland.

Their meeting was brief, as Emma was tired from the long drive, and Snow needed rest in her condition. As Hook started to leave the room, Snow spoke up. "Hook—Killian."

He paused, turning back to face her where she sat in the plush armchair. "Milady?"

She leaned over and grasped his hand. Then those earnest, hopeful eyes—the same hazel color as Emma's—were fixed on him, filled with gratitude. "Thank you for bringing Emma back to us."

"Yeah, what she said," David agreed. "We didn't think we'd ever see her again."

"You're welcome." Hook glanced down the hall where Emma had disappeared. Lowering his voice, he said, "If I were you, I'd make sure Emma knows that she's welcome too."

Snow blinked, her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"She left behind a comfortable life in New York to come back here. Granted, she wasn't as safe as she'd thought, but being here again may be an adjustment for her."

"And I'm sure suddenly having a new brother or sister is a lot to take in," David said quietly, as both his eyes and Snow's fell on her stomach.

For the first time in a long time, Hook thought of his father, Brennan Jones, who had fathered another son after abandoning Liam and Killian as children. He had truly tried to replace them, even giving his third son the same name as his firstborn. It was that insult that had hardened Hook against his father and made him lash out in vengeance.

But Snow and David were completely different. From what Hook understood of their story, they had given up their firstborn out of love for her and their people. They had always hoped to be reunited with her, and since that happened, they had done everything they could to make up for their absence earlier in her life.

Hook just hoped that it would be enough to help Emma see where—and with whom—she belonged.

Author's Note: I was not sure whether to have the first part of this chapter here, or in the previous chapter, or as a separate chapter of its own. I would appreciate hearing your opinions!